Breathless
by Her Madjesty
Summary: He knew what fear felt like, and it was not a feeling he wanted to experience often. He might not know love very well, but he knew it couldn't feel anything like fear did.


_A/N Hullo all! Guess who went to see Frozen for the second time today? Yeah, I probably could've been studying for finals, but who does that sort of thing?_

Anyway, I'm beginning to think I write misleading summaries, but I hope you like this! I found, in my second viewing of this lovely movie, that Kristoff actually starts counting with Olaf when Anna goes into the Ice Castle. I liked that little detail, and thought it would be cool to expand on the moment a bit.

PLEASE tell me what you think! I love getting reviews; they make me feel special and really, really help me improve. Thank you!  


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The irony of a shivering snowman was not lost on Kristoff. The two of them sat on the stoop of the great Ice Palace—it was a beautiful creation, Kristoff marveled, simply gorgeous—biding their time as Anna went and had a long overdue 'girl talk' with her estranged older sister. The snowman had plunked himself next to the grumpy mountain man, counting cheerfully out loud up until the number five, after which he sunk into a murmur so low that Kristoff worried for his well-being.

Said snowman was now pacing across the frozen steps, his entire body shaking with the effort it took to not run in the doors after the fair maid the two of them followed.

"25….26….27…." he muttered under his breath, his pacing giving way to a restless shuffle from one foot to the other. Kristoff's own soft rumble had unwittingly joined the snowman's somewhere near the beginning of the count, but he was significantly less eager to set foot into the towering piece of ice. He had a tendency to run scared when situations like this arose—not that they did very often— and barging in to play the heroic rescuer didn't seem like his plan of choice. The bravest he got was threatening con artists who tried to cheat him out of his well-earned money.

Olaf, on the other hand, seemed ready to charge in after Anna like a hero from a story book. Kristoff scoffed and shook his head, chuckling at the image alone. He had his heart in the right place, but a snowman wouldn't make the best back up against whatever was waiting for Anna in that tower.

"What does fear feel like?" the question came out of the blue, snapping Kristoff out of the self-imposed daze he had just begun settling in to. Said ever-brave snowman was looking up at him, eyes wide and confused and innocent.

Kristoff chuckled aloud, leaning back on the steps. "Not sure how to tell you about that one, buddy." He said casually. "Don't like feeling it too often, myself."

"Come on, you've got to know what it feels like!" The snow creation shuffled closer, head tilted and curious. Kristoff settled deeper into the icy steps and closed his eyes, all the while listening to the back of his head slowly ticking up numbers. '37…38….39'.

"Why do you ask?" he stalled, trying to think of an appropriate answer. If possible, Olaf looked more bashful than usual, ducking his head and stuttering over his words. "I'm new to the 'living' thing and all." He said. "I don't know how to explain a lot of things."

"Oh, I see." Kristoff said, genuinely understanding the little guy's plight. "Well then. Fear is like…" he paused, scratching his head and thinking for a moment longer. "It's like running for a really long time and not having a minute to catch your breath. Your heart's pumping out of control," he mimed it unconsciously. "You know you can't stop, but you're all hyped up on energy and adrenaline and you don't know if you're going to get to where you need to go. It's a lot of uncertainty, I think." He finished lamely. "Make sense?"

"I think so." Olaf said, settling down on the steps next to him and looking pensive.

"Do you think Anna's scared, talking to her sister alone?" He said after a moment, gaze turning to look at the wide doors behind the two of them.

"What?" Kristoff looked at the snowman, surprised. "No way." He dismissed the notion without a second thought. "Anna doesn't get scared. She's too fire-y and crazy to believe in fear." He was kidding, for the most part, but in all the time he had known her, the description seemed fairly accurate.

"I'm not so sure." Olaf said softly. "I'm worried about her, that's all." The two of them continued to sit in silence, but the counter in Kristoff's head kept ticking. '52….53….54'.

"Why would you say she was scared?" he said abruptly, moving to stand up from the steps. Olaf looked at him with eyes wide and full of surprise. "She didn't want to knock, Sven." Snowmen could also cop an attitude, Kristoff noted, a grimace taking its place on his features.

"I think she's terrified of seeing her sister again." Olaf continued, standing up as well and brushing the loose snow from his belly. "I think she's scared of failing." With that, he turned and walked up the remaining stairs, and with a grunt and a shove, disappeared into the Ice Castle.

Kristoff stood awkwardly, alone on the steps of the great castle. 'Scared of failing? No, I don't believe it.' He snorted into the chilled mountain air. 'She can't fail. It's not in her nature.' The towering spires above him winked in the falling daylight, and he could hear Olaf shouting from inside the castle walls. "My name is Olaf and I like warm hugs!" He chuckled despite himself. The snowman was enthusiastic, no matter what the situation. Kristoff had to admire him for that.

Maybe Anna could be afraid, he thought, turning to face the grand doors himself. There was so much determination in her, though. She seemed so confident that she could turn all this around, make everything better with just a wave of her hand.

Maybe she was just so full of fire that he hadn't bothered to look past it all and see what was really going on.

Now, it wasn't his place to, really. He had just met the girl the night before! He wasn't supposed to know exactly how she reacted in any given situation. He had no idea how her relationship with her sister worked. What if it was perfectly normal for these women to go all ice crazy once they decided to become queen?

But what if Anna needed help? The grimace on his face turned into a full force frown. He _really _doubted that the snowman would do much good in a fight, if this adventure came down to that.

But no. Anna had said she trusted her sister; she wouldn't fight her own flesh and blood. This wasn't his battle, anyway. Why should he bother?

He rolled his eyes and sighed, almost hearing the dopey voice of his beloved reindeer chattering at him from across the ravine. "She promised you a sled, Kristoff," he drolled under his breath. "You've got to admit, she's nice."

"Nice does not mean I go barging in there like the Reindeer King." He muttered back. "All I'm getting out of this is a sled."

"And a pretty girl." Sven drawled. "And you _know _she's pretty."

"She'_s_ engaged. Off the table, even if I _was_ interested like that."

"You _are_, and you know it." Sven nickered back.

"Shut _up_!" The mountain man growled, taking off his hat and wringing it in frustration. He paused his monologue for a moment, then looked up and down the large staircase.

"And now I'm talking to myself." He said under his breath. "That's just great."

From high above him, there was a loud crash, and he braced himself immediately, axe straight from his belt to his hand. The balcony doors had flung open, he could see, and he could hear Anna's voice coming from inside, desperate and sad. Another flash, and without a thought, he was through the front doors of the castle at full speed.

He didn't remember running up the stairs, or even barging into the court room and watching as Anna fell to the ground. He was at her side in a second, standing between her and her much paler, much scarier older sister. From that point, it was a blur of ice, snow, and the small red head who had gotten him in to this mess.

All he could remember was helping her up, and feeling her tiny frame shaking with the effort of standing. He remembered keeping her behind him as the snow monster grew in front of them, and then running, running like he would never stop.

A sharp pain broke through his blur, and he felt himself collapsing beneath the weight of the newly fallen snow. His heart rang like thunder in his ears, and he struggled to catch his breath.

Anna's voice pierced the haze, unearthly cheerful in this harsh environment, that he allowed himself to relax. She was safe, and alive, and seemingly whole, if she was talking so much.

"Hey." A voice above him whispered, and he unwillingly opened his eyes to meet the cheerful, coal-like pair that were staring back at him. Olaf grinned, wide and happy. "Was that what fear feels like?" He asked softly.

Kristoff only nodded, still regaining control of his breathing. Olaf chuckled again, flipping over to pop his head out of the snow.

"Fear feels a lot like love." He mentioned, almost as an afterthought, before bursting through into the bright winter sunlight.

Kristoff lay on his back for a few moments longer, relaxing more as his ability to breath properly returned. He heard Anna laughing above him, and couldn't stop the smile that came to his own face.

That newborn snowman didn't know anything about love, he reasoned, shaking the snow from his body and emerging into the sun. Love wasn't anything like fear. What did he know?

He laughed when he saw Anna, stuck up to the waist in powder. He pulled her from the trap in a moment, light little thing she was, and was rewarded with the widest grin he had seen in a while. She moved her hand gently towards his face, and he flushed, only to have her move it into his hair to search for his wound. He winced as she gently ran her fingers over it, pressing gently to see if it was bleeding. They shared a look, if only for a moment, and her fingers lingered in his hair just a beat too long.

She took a step back, after a second, and looked at her feet, bashful. Kristoff felt a blush returning to his own face, but willed it away with a cough.

Anna was off after Olaf in a moment, and he watched affectionately as they romped around the hill, working off the adrenaline of the fall. Sven nudged his arm affectionately, and he shoved him back, grinning wide and proud.

Fear was nothing like love. He wasn't sure what love was, exactly, but he was guessing it was a far more enjoyable emotion than that ridiculous, breath taking sense of fear.

Love should make you feel like you were flying; like you had someone to protect and that that same person would be there, protecting you. Love should feel like companionship, like joy, like…

Breathlessness.


End file.
